


Ascension

by Darknightjess (orphan_account)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Gen, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-19
Updated: 2009-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 10:13:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Darknightjess





	Ascension

One day, during a script meeting toward the end of filming, Elijah sat watching Orlando at the table in front of him. He was staring at Orlando's head, watching as the light that glinted off of his curls made patterns in the dark hair. He watched as Orlando reached one tan hand around his back and using the short nail on a long thin finger, scratched at a spot near his left shoulder blade. Elijah saw Orlando dig at the itch and then loosely shake the material of his shirt that lay across his back. Elijah's attention was broken when Peter asked him a question that he wasn't sure that he could have answered even if he had been paying attention.

A few days later, Elijah was standing behind Orlando as they waited in a loosely formed line for lunch. Elijah was only halfway listening as Dom and Billy argued about something. He nodded toward them and grunted what could be considered a response periodically and watched the back of Orlando's head. He saw as Orlando lifted and rolled his shoulders as if he was tired or had been recently straining his muscles.

Elijah tilted his head and watched Orlando slowly, wearily; rub his palm against the back of his neck. Orlando plucked at the loose folds of fabric that hung down his back. Elijah tilted his head to the other side and then jumped as Billy's sharp elbow jabbed him in counterpoint to a question that he had asked. He reluctantly shifted his attention away from Orlando and joined their conversation.

A week later, sitting in the catering tent, Elijah looked up from his script and watched as Orlando walked in and sat down at a table. It was quiet, there were only a few other people sitting about. Elijah noticed the rather large stack of books that Orlando had brought in and sat down on the table in front of him. He appeared to be opening each book, checking the index, flipping to the back, scanning through a few pages and then tossing it to the side dismissively. Elijah wondered vaguely what he was looking to find. Elijah put his elbows on the table in front of him, rested his chin in his hands and watched as Orlando methodically went through the entire stack of books.

Elijah was intrigued, and he was also bored. He stood up, closed his script that he had been not studying, walked to Orlando's table and sat down across from the other man.

"What are you looking for?"

Orlando looked at him with an expression of surprise, a fair amount of anger and if Elijah wasn't mistaken, a tiny blush of embarrassment. There appeared to have been a slight pinking of Orlando's cheeks when Elijah had asked the question.

"What?" Orlando managed to ask with a sputter.

"What are you looking for? Tell me what you are looking up, I might can help you look for it." Elijah leaned forward and raised an eyebrow questioningly at Orlando.

The dark eyed man sat for a minute in silence before slamming closed the last book on his stack and abruptly standing. He spun on his heel and marched stiff legged from the tent. Elijah watched him go and then looked down at the titles of the books. They were all about the ninth choir of angels and demons, he thought it odd that Orlando had been looking at them; he would not have ever taken Orlando for an existential type of thinker.

A few days later Orlando wasn't at breakfast, he also wasn't in his trailer.

Elijah didn't ask Billy or Dom's opinion as to Orlando's whereabouts, he knew that they didn't know any more than he did, and he was sure that they hadn't even given the matter the second thought that he had.

He was somewhat intrigued when he saw that Orlando was at supper, especially when Elijah noticed that Orlando didn't look well. There were dark circles under his eyes and he sat hunched over as if he was exhausted. Elijah also noticed that the other people at his table, Bean and Ian, left Orlando alone; he sat and picked at his food in solitude.

Before most of the other cast and crew had finished eating Orlando got up from the table and walked toward the door. Elijah watched as his oversized t-shirt swirled about him.

As Orlando reached the swinging door it was opened and a tall stuntman, obviously late and hurrying, rushed into the dining area, heading for a table. As he tried to get out of the way, Orlando's feet tripped him up and he stumbled backwards slightly. Elijah watched as he brushed against a stack of tall boxes standing near the entrance. Orlando's mouth flew open wide and a shriek escaped him. The activity in the dining area stopped as all eyes turned to him. He looked about wide-eyed, gathered himself and dashed toward his trailer. A moment of silence followed his exit before a wave of conversation rippled across the room.

"Hell was 'at?" Dom mumbled around a mouth full of food.

Elijah shrugged and finished his meal.

The next Saturday was an off weekend, the other hobbits were going in search of a great bar that they had heard about from one of the locals, but Elijah had already decided to rearranging his CD collection to include some new ones that he had recently purchased. During the afternoon he was looking for a CD that he knew he had when he decided he must have left it in the makeup trailer. He drove to the set and after retrieving the CD he was heading back toward the parking lot when, passing the trailer that Orlando shared with Bean and Viggo he heard a moan from inside.

He stopped, walked back to the trailer and placed his ear against the door. He heard it again, a low moan of pain or fear. He tried the doorknob and to his surprise found that it was unlocked.

"Hello?" he called anxiously.

"Go away."

Elijah squinted into the dim trailer toward the direction of the voice. It had sounded like Orlando, if Orlando had been a small, frightened child, with a slight cold.

"Is that you Orlando?"

"Go the hell away," a voice that was distinctively Orlando's said.

Elijah walked to where Orlando was huddled on the floor, against the wall in the corner of the room and squatted down next to him. He looked at Orlando and saw that he was wearing only his pants, but he had a towel clutched against him tightly. The fingers that were fisted into the dark material were dirty and what appeared to be blood was smeared across the top of his left hand.

"Have you cut yourself?" Elijah asked.

"Go away," came the reply.

It was then that Elijah noticed that Orlando's shirt was on the ground at his feet, streaks of dark blood shown against the white of the fabric.

"Did someone hurt you?"

Orlando shook his head, never raising his gaze to meet Elijah's eyes. Elijah waited patiently and stared at the white skin of Orlando's shoulders. It was unnatural to Elijah how pale Orlando was, he almost looked translucent. Elijah wondered briefly, that if the light was better could he see Orlando's blood pulsing slowly through vessels and veins through the pale skin. He wanted to reach out and jab at Orlando's shoulder to see if even that small amount of contact would cause the skin to bruise and discolor, but he resisted the urge and continued to stare silently at the other man.

"Go away."

Elijah shook his head. As he opened his mouth to ask Orlando again what had happened, he saw the other man clutch tighter at the towel in his hands and cringe. A whimper issued from the pale throat and Elijah watched as Orlando raised his head and stared at Elijah with red rimmed and tear filled eyes.

One whispered plea escaped and fell into the abyss of silence between the two men.

"Help me."

Orlando lowered his head and curled into himself. Elijah watched as the light that was seeping in from the half opened door shown in and illuminated Orlando, his skin seemed to glow in the late afternoon light. Elijah had never noticed the texture of Orlando's hair, he knew it was curly and somewhat fine like baby hair, but he had never noticed that, in this light, it appeared to be like smooth dark silk, shot through with mahogany colored threads. It was soft looking and Elijah wondered what it would feel like to the touch, if it would tear and lift away from the scalp easily if yanked upon hard. His fingers itched and he clutched them at his side to still them.

Elijah looked as Orlando turned slightly away from him. His eyes widened as he saw Orlando's back.

There were tears in the skin of his back. Two angry, raw wounds about three inches long over each shoulder blade. Elijah reached and placed his hand on the skin near one of the wounds. He could feel heat like a fever radiating from them.

A low moan issued from Orlando, he writhed in pain and Elijah snatched his hand away.

"What caused this, who caused this?"

Orlando didn't answer, Elijah heard him take a ragged breath and watched as the skin around the wounds rippled and the flesh opened a few more inches. Elijah couldn't take his eyes from the angry gashes.

It was then that he noticed what appeared to be bone poking through at the center of each cut. He raised his hand and extended one finger gently touching the tip of the bloody bone, now protruding a few inches from Orlando's back.

A pained sigh escaped as the skin pulled away and Elijah watched as a vibration passed through the bone. It pushed from the cut and as he stared in amazement begin to unfold and stretch.

"Wings. You have wings." Elijah said slowly, as if to a child.

Orlando didn't speak, he only drew in closer to the floor and a low cry and hitching of breath came from him.

Elijah stroked one of the tiny white feathers from the tip of the thing sticking out of Orlando's back. The feather was soft and seemed to glow, as if illuminated from within. As the wings stretched upward and unfurled they loomed over the two men crouched on the ground. Each pure white wing was over four feet in length and seemed to thrum with energy in the tight space of the trailer. As the edges of them brushed against the shelves and costume racks that were against the walls Orlando moaned and twitched in pain.

"We need to get you out of here, where there's more room. They're probably still fragile, you might mess them up if you try and move them in this small space."

Elijah took Orlando's arm and dragged him to his feet. The other man had his eyes squeezed shut but tears leaked passed the lids and rolled down his face.

"Do they hurt?"

Orlando bit his lip and then shook his head before answering.

"No. Not now, not really. They did. Do they look - done?"

Elijah shrugged and walked Orlando toward the door.

As they passed through the door and into the late afternoon light outside Orlando's wings spread and stretched out. Elijah marveled at the size of them. They were so very white and looked strong as they vibrated slightly. He dropped the other man's arm and stepped away from him.

Orlando raised his head into the light and a smile slowly spread across his face. Elijah thought that he looked beautiful at that moment. A beauty that was so pure and true that it was almost painful to behold. Elijah had always thought that Orlando was beautiful but his wildly exuberant personality had always overshadowed his looks in Elijah's eyes. Orlando's smile was beautiful, but it was also a warning that there was mischief afoot.

Now, as Elijah gazed at Orlando he saw such radiant beauty that he wanted to drop his eyes and look away, to cry or shield his face, but he couldn't, he merely stood and stared.

Orlando turned to him and graced Elijah with a gentle smile.

"Are you an angel - or a demon?" Elijah asked calmly.

Orlando slowly shrugged causing the glorious wings to lift and shudder slightly. Elijah stepped back another step and looked up at them as they lifted and begin to sweep out, Orlando looked over his shoulder with a look of awe. The mighty appendages made a sound like thunder as he beat them against the air and Elijah stared in wonder.

Elijah continued to stare into the blue depths of the sky even after Orlando was no longer in sight and then he turned and headed toward his car.

The rumors were rampant for days over the disappearance of Orlando. Each tale was more outrageous than the last before everyone settled on the plausible, but not likely, version that he and Peter must have had a disagreement and he was sent away until he was needed for the re-shoots.

It was supposed that he would turn up again; Elijah believed that they might be correct in that assumption and somehow that thought shook him. Overall though he didn't give as much thought as one would believe to Orlando and he never joined in any of the conversations in the makeup trailer or the dining tent as the stories and speculation were told and retold.

He only halfway listened as Dom and Billy wondered about Orlando's disappearance, but periodically Elijah would awaken from a dream with the thrum of thunder in his ears. Funny though, he could never remember the specifics of these dreams.

After a few weeks Elijah no longer even dreamt of beautiful pure white wings or the sound of them gliding steadily upward. Then suddenly one day as he was sitting in his chair in the makeup trailer, his back begin to itch. When he reached behind him to absent mindedly scratch he felt a tender bump over the sharp edge of his shoulder blade.

Angel or demon, he wondered as he adjusted the material of his shirt over his back, Orlando never did answer.


End file.
